Stay With Me
by english stars
Summary: USUK Alfred Jones moves to England for his college education. He meets his landlord, Arthur, who has secretly fallen for him. *** COVER BELONGS TO OWNER
1. Chapter 1

Alfred moved for a better education, especially for his English major. Although he was hesitant at first, his parents insisted. He doesn't have any idea why his Gramps would convince him to, or why his Granny would even give him money just for him to go. But it seems like he has no regrets all.

London is just lovely. Its antiquity fascinated him. The place didn't have lavish decorations, or fancy signs. It is beautiful the way it is. Unlike America, where the streets are noisy and everything seems to be a mess, England may be the opposite. But no Yank may admit to that openly. Shame of one's country would be one of the worst things for an American to show.

He strolled around mindlessly for quite a while. He smiled at women who took a glance at him. Surely, these women would shriek just right after.

Later, he decided that he should really be on his way. He checked his paper once more, just to make sure he isn't lost. Then he went to a telephone booth near the apartment.

.

After some key presses, and some time waiting, the phone finally picked up.

"Hello, this is Alfred Jones speaking. Can I talk to the landowner, or-" He was cut off by someone next line. 

"So, Mr. Jones? Just where are you?" A voice with a British accent rang through the phone. Alfred could barely understand it.

"I'm in the middle of nowhere." Alfred replied. He laughed to himself. It's just a joke. Not unless, if that Brit actually took it seriously...

"Oh bloody hell." The voice grumbled, irritated. "You HAVE to be kidding me, Jones."

"I am." Damn. The Brit took it seriously.

They might not be able to stand this boisterous and sarcastic Alfred, so it looks like he has to go find another place.

"Now, let's be serious, young man. Where are you?"

"I am at the telephone booth by the front door. I was just checking if the landowner is in."

"You just wasted valuable change, Jones. You should have just asked directly."

"Now that you mentioned it, you're the one who's wasting my change. If you just, you know, calmed down a bit, you wouldn't have took things too seriously, and everything would be a lot easier for us, wouldn't it be, buddy?"

Silence surfaced for a second or so. After, the voice took a deep, heavy sigh. _Damn these impatient, too-serious Brits_.

Alfred can feel the anger on the other side.

"Whatever. I'll have my brother tend to you. Wait at the front door." Whoever it is on the next line, they're so done with him. But why does it seem that this mysterious person wants him to stay anyway?

"Thanks man." Alfred mutters, apologetic. He didn't really want to piss off anyone. That's just the way he is. But that moment told him to change.

"I heard that, Jones. I am not your pal, or buddy or man."

Alfred chuckled pretentiously, then hung up the phone and left the booth. He went to the front door, and rang the doorbell.

.

A child of twelve or so opened up. He has blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a sailor shirt with large blue collars with a drooping blue necktie, and blue capri pants to match.

"Hello! You must be Mr. Alfred, yes?" The boy seemed to shout out the words to him. Also, his high- pitched voice made Alfred cringe a bit.

"Yes, I am. Do you want some chocolate?" He fumbled for a bar in his front pocket, and then he showed it to the child. His eyes widened and shined at the sight it. _Of course, he's a kid_.

"Arthur told me not to accept anything from strangers, but since you look kind, and I know your name, it must be okay." The boy immediately snatched it from his hand, opened it, and gave it a bite. "Mm-hm. Hershey's, huh. This one might be quite lacking, but it's fine. Besides, I haven't eaten one for a long time." After two more bites, he stashed the rest of it in his pocket.

"Come on in, Mr. Alfred. You'd sure want tea, or coffee, right?"

"Well, yeah. Alright, I'll go in. Just, um, speak a little more softly." It is ironic for Alfred to say to a kid to shut up. He himself cannot do so.

.

"Anyway, I am Peter. Nice to meet you, Mr. Alfred." Peter reached out his hand to Alfred, while smiling so brightly. _He and his brother are opposites. Maybe not all Brits are too serious, after all_.

"And I you, Peter." He warmly shook his hand.

Peter took the suitcase, while Alfred carried the bags. They talked about the most silliest of things, like what hotdogs are actually made of, or the difference of the ladder from a stepladder.

"Ladders and step- ladders are the same! What's the point?" Peter insists.

"Ladders are just ladders. Stepladders resemble stairs." Alfred laughed at this debate. _It's almost cute that he goes this far to ensure that he wins… Almost._

"Both are dangerous if there's an earthquake!"

 _All right, now stop this childish act._ "Okay, you win." Alfred chuckled.

Peter stopped in front of the door of a room. Alfred did the same.

"This'll be yours, Mr. Alfred. I better get going, or someone will get cranky. Awfully cranky. Also, I had a great time. We can meet later, right?"

"Yes, Peter. We are neighbors, after all."

The lad smiled, and then skipped away. Alfred may have heard something like, "Does he even know that he'll be beside Arthur's? That sucks."

.

Alfred unpacked his things.

Thinking back, this apartment may be the one that he was always looking for. No wild kids running around, no old people knocking at your door for their cookies, no tattooed men smoking, and no musicians. The place may be a little plain, but it is decent- looking and neat.

His room is quite too spacious for an apartment. A thin wall separates his kitchen from his bed. At the side, is a clean bathroom.

His bedroom has a brown bed with a white cushion and white pillows, a closet, and a side table. Facing the bed is a large, framed picture of the Big Ben. This didn't really bother him, he was just surprised.

It'll all be fine, this ain't 'merica. My parents aren't here, so I get a bit of freedom, and I still have some cash. I-

His pondering was suddenly stopped. He heard something. He wasn't sure, but it sounds creepy. Like panting, or moaning. Whatever it is, it is scaring Alfred out.

Alfred's heart raced. _Shit, that can't be._ Hishair stood on one end. He got goose bumps all over his body.His hands were sweating. His knees were trembling. His throat ran dry, and a sharp pain penetrated his skull.

 _That can't be._

 _Ghosts don't exist, right? Come on, don't be such a sissy!_

It looks like it's coming from next door. _Wait a minute… Arthur… Is Arthur a ghost?!_

Even if Alfred was frightened, he _wanted_ to know. He _needed_ to know.

After gaining some composure, Alfred headed to the wall adjacent to his room. He searched where the sound was loudest. And it was by the wall in his bedroom. The wall with the Big Ben framed in it.

 _THE PICTURE WAS HAUNTED?!_

Alfred could feel himself tearing up. He really wanted to scream.

The creepy sound did not stop.

Out of curiosity, Alfred pressed his ear against the wall.

 _It's not a ghost. It's a someone._

Alfred was flabbergasted. _It couldn't be a person doing something…_


	2. Chapter 2- England

_Bloody hell._

 _He must've seen me._

 _What do I do?!_

Arthur is unsure of what he's even doing.

He is kneeling against the wall, naked, while his left hand is holding him upright. He is sweating too much. Way too much.

His right hand can feel _it_ throbbing between his legs. His knees are going to give up.

 _It's been so long after I've felt this way again…_

.

Arthur heard voices next door. One voice he's sure is of Peter's.

The other voice, however, is strangely familiar. From this, he can tell that the one who spoke was a man. _His accent is horrid. And this one will be loud, I'm sure. He's just exhausted, that's why he isn't noisy yet. But once he settles down, I'm sure to regret that I even let him in._

His attention was then transferred to Peter. _That kid doesn't really listen to me, huh. Just when I told him not to talk to outsiders._

Arthur made sure that his door was locked. He climbed up his bed, and then positioned himself against the wall. He seems to be trying to hear something, or from the way he squints at the wall, it was more of he was trying to _see_ something.

He can finally _see_ the American. He looks at his face. _Bloody hell, this one is just too handsome._ His eyes were the bluest he has ever seen. _His sweat dripping off his face, his voice…all are just way too perfect._ The American turns to face the wall. Arthur can now see him clearly.

Alfred's face suddenly flushed red.

He can feel _it_ harden. After a few more moments, he can feel _it_ getting erect.

Arthur gasped.He then realized, whoever this American is, is that Alfred _wants_ him, more than anything else in the world. Only he made him like this.

Before he even thought about it, he slowly unbuttoned his trousers.

Waves of pleasure shook his body.

 _It feels… so… good…_

Arthur bit his lip to suppress his moans, but he couldn't stop it. His heart beats faster. His breathing suddenly turned irregular. He let go of himself.

He could feel it more.

His shirt was soaked terribly of his sweat.

Arthur climaxed, ending it with a gasp. He finally fell to his bed, then smiled to himself.

He was tired, but satisfied.

Alfred 'peeped' again. This time, the American was gone.


	3. Chapter 3- America meets England

Alfred rang the doorbell, even if he was hesitant at first.

 _What if my neighbor thinks I'm a pervert and he'll report me to the landlord?_

 _What if there was really no one and it was a ghost trying to scare me out?_

The door creaked open, and a man about his height with dirty blonde hair appeared. Alfred sighed out of relief.

 _Thank God, my neighbor's a human. But if my hunch was right,.,_

"G-good a-afternoon… I am a friendly neighbor, Alfred Jones. We need to talk about, um, something. I'm not sure. Mind if I come in?"

The man looked at Alfred head-to-toe. He gave a do-not-mess-with-me-or else look to him. Alfred took a big gulp, and clasped his hands in fright. _God, it would be actually be much better if it was a ghost, instead of this short- tempered blondie._

"I am Arthur Kirkland. You may come." Arthur widened the door opening and led Alfred inside.

 _Damn, his room is too big for a tenant. Is he the landlord's son or something?_

Arthur has two rooms separated with a thin wall and a doorway. Both are covered with lavishly designed wallpaper. His furniture must be out of oak, or pine. On the left side of the first room, there is a cupboard and a stove. Just nearby is a table with chairs. On the right is a display case where there are ten, or twelve tea sets with different colors and designs. _You can feel the British-ness here._

"Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll just get some tea for us."

Alfred sat on one of the chairs by the stove. He looked around the place. Just like his own room, Arthur's bedroom was also by that corner.

 _Wait…_

Alfred just realized that their bedrooms are just separated by a thin wall.

 _So it was really Arthur, huh. He's a man. It's normal to do it. But, he was really loud. I must've ruined his good time._ Alfred felt sorry for Arthur. Alfred also wondered if all the walls in this apartment are the same- thin and not soundproof. If so, the other tenants must've had a hard time taking a dump, or watching X- Rated shows.

Arthur came back with a porcelain kettle, and two teacups.

 _What?! This neighbor will make me drink these horrible- tasting piss?!_ Alfred's stomach suddenly twisted, and his mouth turned sour. He decided to keep his disgust. He turned to smile at Arthur.

Arthur's cheeks suddenly turned red. Alfred laughed to himself. He must be so shy.

"Why are you laughing?" Arthur placed the tea set in front of Arthur. He sat down, with his hands clasped above the table. His face turned even redder.

"Sorry, can't help it." Alfred cleared his throat, trying to suppress his laughter. _He looks so fucking cute!_

"Anyway, Arthur." Alfred poured some tea into a cup, making sure he doesn't spill anything. "I knew what you just did." He sneers, flustering Arthur even more.

Arthur tried to act as if nothing happened. He cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, I'll play along in this little game of yours. What did I do?"

Alfred snickered, and then leaned forward. "You jerked off, didn't ya?" He whispers in an insulting voice. Arthur panicked, and stepped back. His eyes tears up. "Wha- How?!"

Alfred sits back, slightly concerned. "Look, I'm sorry. I was just fooling around, really."

Arthur turns red in fury. He marches towards Alfred. He stood up and dodged him, but Arthur somehow kept up. He managed to tightly grab Alfred's wrist.

"Chill, man. The landlord might hear us and kick us out. We wouldn't want that to happen, right?" Alfred whimpers.

"But I am the landlord. And that's right, I might kick you out. Glad you know." Arthur scoffs. He lets Alfred go.

"I'm serious about the jerking-off part, but you shouldn't really worry" Alfred changes his tone to a reassuring one. "That's second nature for us guys."

Arthur calms down for a bit. He takes a deep breath and then he walks to his chair. "My apologies. I won't deny the fact that I did it." He looks down shamefully.

"You shouldn't be." Alfred sits back. "Although, can't you do anything about the wall?"

"You see," Arthur's voice quivered. "This room and your room used to be a large, single lounge." He sips his tea, while staring blankly at the wall. "But then I decided that it should be divided to accommodate more lodgers. This particular wall is thin so that it will be easier to modify the place again."

 _So, not all walls are like this…_

"Can't I transfer to another suite?"

"Unfortunately, no. All of the rooms are reserved, and no one seems to cancel."Arthur's eyes showed a hint of sadness to what Alfred just said.

He decided that Arthur has justified himself, although it didn't eradicate all of his incertitudes. It was time to change the topic.

"It must be real hard to manage a large place like this, right?" Alfred takes a small sip of his tea. _Actually, tea doesn't taste that bad._

"For now, it is not that difficult because school hasn't started just yet." Arthur makes eye contact with Alfred."But during school days, someone else manages for me. For the time being, he is on vacation."

"Do we have other neighbors?"

"Besides Peter? None yet." Arthur finishes his tea. "Maybe next week, they'll arrive. They're usually people…from different places. Cultural differences."

If Arthur was the landowner, he must be the one who spoke to him through the phone. It all makes sense now… _He was the too- serious Brit._

"On the phone a while back, you seem to know me very well." Alfred recalls the time they first talked to each other.

"Your parents contacted me. They told me to keep an eye on you." Arthur sensed that Alfred tensed up on the words _keep an eye on you_. "They made sure you aren't lost. This is your first time in England, am I correct?"

"Heck yeah." Alfred grinned at Arthur. He turned red again.

Alfred smiled to himself. He thought that only girls could fall for it. Now, he knew that even men could. This time, a gentleman just did.

"Show me the sights of England!" Alfred heartily blurts out.

"M-maybe some other time…" Arthur stammers.

.

"Peter. Are you and Peter that close?" Alfred tries to purse the conversation, although he didn't know why. He just felt that he has to.

"Oh, him." Arthur chuckles. "No. Well, we aren't really siblings. We are distant cousins." _His tone suddenly became sad, like when you narrate a drama. Actually, I can feel that he will tell me a dramatic story…_

"His parents left him in an orphanage." His voice breaks. "I traced him, and then I fixed some papers for my guardianship over him."

"So you are his guardian, right?"

"Now that you think about it, yes." Arthur tries to blink away his tears. "He should be calling me his uncle, but then he mentioned that I was more than that, so he calls me his brother."

"That kid is stronger than he seems." Alfred smiled, and then he gazed at Arthur.

"Y-you should fix your things first, don't you think?" Arthur looks away.

 _All right._

"Hmm. I think I should be." Alfred stands up and heads for the door. "I'll be seeing ya. Maybe…

…tonight?"


	4. Chapter 4- America

Alfred tried to open his eyes, despite the bright sun peering over his window. He buries his face in his pillow. He can feel himself sweat. His lips pulled into a smile that he could not control.

He tries to calm himself down, pondering.

 _Why am I feeling so… happy?_

 _Was it because I was in London_?

Probably, but there are places that might be prettier than here.

 _Was it because I will be going to school next week?_

No.

School has always been boring for him. Equations, projects and endless home works have dreaded him in these past few years. Add the annoying teachers, and he is almost sure that he'll be at his wit's end. The only thing that is good at school is that he's sure to meet girls.

Trouble had always been with him. He had once graffiti'd the walls of the school. He might have set their Science Lab on fire. He might have downloaded porn pictures on their computers. He might have cheated. He might have drawn penises on the Cartesian plane during Math. He might have put goggly eyes on Christopher Columbus during History. He might have slipped a Whoopee cushion on a teacher's chair. He might have put melted Snickers on a classmate's chair. He might have been the one who laughs the loudest during meetings.

He might have hated school.

Alfred tried to shake these thoughts away.

But once again, he was deep in thought.

 _Maybe, just maybe…_

 _Am I happy because I'm here?_

Alfred absent-mindedly stared at the framed picture of Big Ben in front of him. His eyes widened, as he remembered the time.

He grabbed his alarm clock from his bedside.

 _Shit._

 _It's almost nine and I haven't done a goddamn thing._

His bed didn't even have a blanket, or a cover. Yesterday, he was so tired that he simply slumped in this bare bed.

His windows didn't have curtains yet.

The whole room is still a mess.

He gets up hastily, as he heads for the kitchen.

.

"And so, are you two getting back?"

Alfred watched the TV show, highly intrigued.

He almost laid down when he heard the kettle whistle. He runs to the stove, and he attempted to check if the water's hot enough by touching the kettle, his palm facing.

"SHIIIIIIIIIIT!" He screamed, jolting his hand away.

"What the bloody hell?!" He had heard Arthur from next room. Loud footsteps approach his door. Arthur turned the knob, and he saw Alfred clutching his wrist, with a painful expression on his face.

Arthur isn't sure if he's going to laugh at him, or if he's going to panic. In the end, he laughed heartily.

"What the fuck, Arthur." Alfred stutters, glaring at him.

"Okay, okay."Arthur stifles another laugh rising in his throat. "First, you pour cold water…"

"I can't move my arm, cookie." Alfred gasped at the last word. He blinked his eyes, even more bothered. Did he just call Arthur his cookie?!

"Oh, blimey…"

Even before Alfred knew it, Arthur grasped his wrist, and he opened the tap. The cool water soothed him a bit.

He felt Arthur's soft, small, slender fingers over his. The ache was somehow lessened, feeling his hand almost interlaced with his.

Unknowingly, his heart beat faster, and he could feel a shock from his hand, to his arm, to his spine. He tried to control his breathing.

He gazed at Arthur's eyes.

Arthur seemed like he was really focused, but he caught his small glances at him. And during those glances, each second seemed to stretch into eternity. Those honest, emerald eyes burning into his had made his breathing uneven. Feeling their skin touch sent shivers to all corners of his body.

"Shambles." Arthur mutters, caressing his hand, making sure that every inch has been covered in water. "Blimey, don't you know how to cook? These mad Yanks…"

Alfred couldn't answer. All his life, he was spoiled by his parents. Bacon, toast and eggs are his breakfast every morning by then. He could choose between hot cocoa, milk, or Welch's orange juice. If he woke up late, he could simply drop by at McDonald's or at Subway.

"We'll eat at my place later." Arthur tries to uplift Alfred's spirit. "You sure can't do anything with this."

Alfred smiles, and he turns to him. "Yeah, that's a good plan."

Arthur's face flushes. He lets go of Alfred's hand slowly, gently. He tries to hide his flushed face, and he heads to Alfred's door.

"Hold on. I'll go get some bandages."

After a few minutes, he brought his First Aid Kit. Alfred's eyes lit up.

"Are you some sort of a Boy Scout?" He chuckles.

"Of course." Arthur snickers back. "I was team leader back then. Had all the badges. Those good 'ol days…"

Alfred looks at Arthur, and he can see his longing. He can see memories in those eyes.

 _Is he really that old?_

Arthur brings out a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, some cotton, and gauze.

Alfred's stomach churned at the sight of the alcohol. Frightened, he stood up, ready to run, if he has to.

Arthur turned the cap, and he squeezed some into the cotton ball.

"Alright." Arthur furrowed his eyebrows at the look of Arthur's face. He paused, and then he cracked up. "D-don't t-tell m-me…" He stutters, in between chuckles. "Y-you're a-afraid of…"

"If you don't get that away from me…" Alfred clenched his fist, trembling. "I'll beat you up."

"Blimey, it's just alcohol!" Arthur tries to control his laughter, again. "Even kids can handle this, or are you a kid?"

Alfred sneered at him and he scampered away from Arthur.

"If you can catch me, then I'll behave." He beams to him.

"So you really are a kid, huh, Alfred." Arthur sneers back. "Well then."

Arthur and Alfred bounded after each other. It felt like it had been forever since he had felt this innocence, this simplicity. It may have been childish, but Alfred felt undeniable bliss that he had missed all along.

Alfred's messy room got worse. They bumped the chairs, tables and boxes, turning the place upside down, but neither of them seemed to mind. Surprisingly, both enjoyed. Whenever Alfred would almost escape, Arthur would keep up. It seemed as if the chase would take forever.

And deep inside, Alfred hoped that it would.

After some hopeless minutes, Alfred decided to give up anyway. He turned, but it was Arthur who hadn't had enough. He smiled widely, a smile that he hadn't seen before, and it took Alfred's breath away.

Arthur charged to Alfred, and in one wild, unexpected, glorious moment their legs tangled and Arthur fell to Alfred's broad and warm chest. They fell to the ground in a breathless, laughing heap.

Alfred can feel Arthur's chest pressed against his, rising and falling evenly. He can feel his heartbeat, racing as fast as his. Arthur slumped, exhausted. His hand rested on Alfred's muscular shoulders, while the other lay on his chest.

Alfred can hear his heart struggling to escape his ribcage. Arthur smelt of a strange fragrance- sweat, and a faint drop of isopropyl alcohol. He stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to hear and feel Arthur.

He took a deep breath, and he smiled to himself.

 _How did he and this stranger meet in the first place?_

 _Why did he feel like he had known Arthur forever?_

Alfred lousily placed his hand on Arthur's warm, delicate waist. He closed his eyes. He was filled with unexplained bliss, and contentment.

How he wished that they could be like this for eternity…


End file.
